


Stanprise

by Fox_Salz



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, two old men who can't say the word love but you know it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9342818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Salz/pseuds/Fox_Salz
Summary: Rick doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. So of course Stan tries to throw him a surprise party.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynsaneinthemembrane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynsaneinthemembrane/gifts).



> Who’s ready for some fluffy stanchez (with some mild fiddauthor)! I wrote this fic for lynsaneinthemembrane in honor of her birthday which was yesterday. I meant to have this up in time, sorry, last night I was too busy being a good for nothing beracha. I hope you enjoy regardless!
> 
> Warnings: mentions of drug and alcohol use, swearing, allusions to sexual activities, and sappiness.

Rick gave a derisive snort. Stan turned to look at him the best he could without jostling them. They were snuggled up together on the couch in the Mystery Shack watching a genre-changed spinoff of ‘The Duchess Approves’. It wasn’t nearly as good, but engrossing nonetheless in a so-bad-it’s-good sort of way.

 

“This is the worst episode yet,” Rick commented.

 

“What about the one where the duchess’ sister doesn’t realize she was kidnapped by aliens?”

 

“That, that’s a close second. At least that one was funny. This is just bullshit.”

 

“What? He’s spending the day throwing the best birthday she’s ever had to make up for years of disappointments.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Sometimes Stan wondered if Rick was just born bitter. Then something tingled in the back of his mind. He focused on it, and soon a fact he had forgotten reformed.

 

“Isn’t your birthday coming up?”

 

“Ye-up,” Rick confirmed unhappily.

 

“Are you finally hitting eighty, old man?” Rick narrowed his eyes. Stan didn’t bother stifling his laughter.

 

“Fu-fuck you, Lee.”

 

Stan winked.

 

“So, what are we doing to celebrate? Harass an alternate version of ourselves? Steal the fortune from an alien kingdom? Binge watch ‘Ball-Fondlers’ and stuff ourselves with cakes? Or go the classic route and celebrate with the family?”

 

With each suggestion Rick seemed to grow more and more peeved. And as his mood soured further, more memories came back to Stan.

 

The time Stan had pointed out it was Rick’s birthday and he proceeded to down a whole bottle of tequila, then washed it down with another one. Or the birthday where he had set fire to a giant sign with the date displayed prominently on it. Or when he crushed k-lax with some other alien drug and sprinkled it into a vodka bottle he didn’t share.

 

“Yeesh, Rick, you still don’t like celebrating your birthday?”

 

“Lee, birthday celebrations are just another capitalistic excuse to make you spend frivolously on asinine decorations and thoughtless gifts all to pretend like life—individual if in particular—has any meaning or significance.”

 

“Someone hit their grouchy nineties.”

 

“F-fuck off, Lee.”

 

——

 

Rick knew Stan well. Well enough to know not to trust him. Everyone else just strengthened his suspicions. 

 

First it was Morty and Dipper not-so-casually remarking on their busy weekend plans, the details of which they couldn’t be explicit about, several times in his vicinity. Then it was Summer and Beth talking about the favorite types of cake and pestering Rick to see what his were. Even Ford and Fidds were playing coy, talking adamantly about some project whose deadline was short, then quickly clamming up when he entered the room.

 

If all of that wasn’t incriminating enough their poorly concealed sneaking around with streamers and glitter and other disgustingly cliché party favors was a dead give away.

 

That bastard was planning a party.

 

Oh, _fuck_ _no_.

 

Of course no one was going to just come out and tell him anything, specifically where it was so he could shut that shit down. Willingly, anyway. Rick had his ways. And his easy targets.

 

“What’ve you go there, Jerry?”

 

“Rick!”

 

To his credit Jerry managed not to drop the package in his hands. Barely. He looked at Rick with panic. If Jerry was any less pathetic he might be entertaining.

 

“I thought Morty and the twins were supposed to be distracting y—I mean, I thought you and the kids were on an adventure?”

 

“I ditched them at Blips and Chitz.” Rick approached Jerry slowly, backing him up against the wall. “S-so what are yo— _urp_ —u up to, _Jerry_?”

 

“What, can’t a guy sneak into his own home with a  suspicious unmarked box?” Rick raised his eyebrow. Finally Jerry broke. “Alright, fine! For the record I didn’t want to be a part of this but Beth made me.”

 

“A part of what, Jerry?”

 

“We’re throwing you a surprise birthday party. Stan organized it! We were going to do it here and set everything up while you were gone with the kids. That way you couldn’t escape.”

 

Fucking dastardly. Rick had to give props to Stan.

 

“Where is everyone now, Jerry?”

 

“Waiting at the Mystery Shack. I’m supposed to give the all clear so we can set up.”

 

“We— _urp_ —ell that’s not gonna happen.”

 

Rick took out his portal gun and fired it. Jerry flinched away from the portal that appeared; if Rick wasn’t so furious he’d be amused.

 

He walked through, Jerry unfortunately inviting himself along. Rick instantly recoiled as something sparkly was thrown in his face and a chorus of voices chimed together as one.

 

“Happy birthday!”

 

Rick scowled at the banner and streamers hung up around the shack’s living room. Mabel raced over and snapped a party had around his head. He turned his scowl on her.

 

“D-did you douse me in glitter?”

 

“Funtime birthday boy glitter!”

 

“I thought I left you at Blips and Chitz?”

 

Morty and Dipper came over with party whistles, which Morty had the gall to pop into Rick’s mouth. Dipper blew his in Rick’s face.

 

“All part of the plan.”

 

“So you couldn’t be a party pooper and so Grunkle Stan could show you how much he love—“

 

“Alright, sweetie,” Stan interrupted, hurrying over and nudging her towards the table filled with snacks. “Why don’t we let everyone say hi to the birthday geezer.”

 

As the kids moved away Beth and Summer came over, both hugging him in turn. Rick stood motionless, glaring at Stan.

 

“Happy birthday, grandpa Rick. I’m amazed we pulled this off.”

 

“Stan came up with everything. Even using Jerry as bait.”

 

“Wait, what?” Jerry asked.

 

“Yeah, dad. Grandpa Stan knew that grandpa Rick would be super on guard at the weeks leading up to his birthday, so we were all supposed to be obvious about being up to something. The twins and Morty even made you take them out knowing you’d ditch them so you could put a stop to the party.”

 

“I gave them a miniature portal gun set to specifically bring them back here,” Ford explained, having come up beside his brother. Both were grinning and Rick was torn on whose he wanted to slap off first.

 

“And since we all knew you’d try and get the information out of Jerry since he’s the easiest target—” Beth started.

 

“Hey!”

 

“We purposefully told Jerry the wrong thing so you’d come here.”

 

“Where we set everything up! Do you like it, grandpa?”

 

Rick took a good look around the Mystery Shack living room, ignoring Jerry’s wounded whining. The carpet sparkled a rainbow of glitter, he noticed, and the banner had crayon-drawn likenesses of Rick’s face; they were in several different styles, giving away that Mabel wasn’t the sole artist. He turned to the long table that had been set up with at least six different cakes and brightly wrapped gifts. Fiddleford was off to one side fiddling with a piñata shaped like a unicorn.

 

“I hate it.”

 

Beth kissed his cheek and said, “That’s the spirit, dad. Now come celebrate.”

 

“Yeah, grandpa, blow out your candles!”

 

Summer pushed him towards the table. Rick stumbled along begrudgingly, unable to squirm away even if h wanted to as Stan tossed an arm around his shoulders.

 

“You’re dead to me,” Rick whispered.

 

“Can it and enjoy how much your family cares for you,” Stan returned happily.

 

“Th-they’re not the ones who organized all this.”

 

“Wow, will you look at all these cakes Mabel, Beth, and Melody made!” Stan said, voice a little too loud and pointedly looking away from Rick.

 

Up close Rick counted more than just six cakes. There were actually nine, all decorated uniquely and appearing to be different flavors. Rick admired the one which was actually made up in his image.

 

“Why are there so many?”

 

Melody smiled sheepishly and admitted, “We weren’t sure which you liked.”

 

“So we baked plenty of options!” Mabel chimed in.

 

“Between the Pines’ sweet tooth and your own I’m sure none of it will go to waste,” Ford commented.

 

“I didn’t know how old you are today, so I got a hundred candles!” Mabel told him. “I hope it’s enough.”

 

Rick narrowed his eyes but her grin didn’t falter. Though he couldn’t see, Rick could sense Stan rolling his eyes.

 

“Soos, light the candles already.”

 

“You got it, Dad!”

 

As everyone sung him happy birthday Rick gazed at the tiny flickering flames. He counted; sure enough Mabel had actually gotten one hundred.

 

At first Rick didn’t realize the song had ended. He glanced around all the eager faces. Well, why the hell not?

 

Rick took a deep breath and blew. Of course, since there were a hundred candles not all of them went out. In fact, less than ten did.

 

“Yeah, I’m not blowing the rest out.”

 

“We’ll help you, old man,” Summer offered.

 

Everyone else blew until the candles were all extinguished. Despite himself Rick was smiling.

 

“I want a slice of each,” he decided. 

 

“Yeesh, Rick, how do you stay so skinny?” Rick waggled his eyebrow and Stan turned several shades of red.

 

“Have a slice of this one first!”

 

Rick glanced over at the beaming Mabel. She, Morty, and Dipper were holding a plate with a generous slice of cake. Before he could say anything they pushed it into his face.

 

It was definitely a devil’s food cake. 

 

Rick wiped his eyes and slapped Stan, cutting off the man’s laughter. Then he popped a finger in his own mouth.

 

“Not bad, y-you little shits.”

 

Suddenly Mabel, Summer, and Morty threw their arms around him.

 

“Happy birthday, grandpa!”

 

“We’re glad you like it, Rick.”

 

Rick glanced over at Dipper.

 

“What, no hug from you?”

 

“I’m just here for cake, man,” Dipper replied, grin betraying him.

 

“Grunkle Rick, you need to open your presents!” 

 

“Y-you didn’t need to get me anything,” Rick protested as the kids pushed him towards the other end of the table where the gifts lay. “Except Lee.”

 

“What, throwing you a party isn’t enough?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Mabel giggled, thrusting a packing into his hands.

 

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan thought really hard on what to get you—and it’s from the heart.”

 

Rick raised his eyebrow as he opened the shiny wrapping to reveal a blue sweater. Unfolding it he saw on the front was a small burgundy heart, around where his would be when he put it on.

 

He glanced over at Stan who wouldn’t meet his eyes and noticed how bad he was fidgeting. For the first time Rick took a good look at the sweater Stan was wearing. It was burgundy, with a small blue heart resting over Stan’s own. 

 

“Grunkle Stan told me exactly how to make it,” Mabel helpfully supplied.

 

Pulling at his collar Stan grumbled, “You don’t have to wear it. I just couldn’t think of anything to get you.”

 

“Shut the, the fuck up, Lee. I’m never taking this off,” Rick said, shrugging his lab coat off and pulling the sweater over his head. It was by far the comfiest article of clothing he had that wasn’t stolen from Stan. 

 

“I told you he’d love it, Grunkle Stan.”

 

Mabel nudged Stan’s side and winked. His blush only grew.

 

“Yeesh, don’t get sentimental on me. I just asked her to make that so you wouldn’t steal mine.”

 

“Y-you sap.”

 

Fiddleford let out a sudden high-pitched cackle, drawing everyone’s attention.

 

“Piñata’s ready!”

 

It was shaped like a unicorn—and even sounded like one.

 

“I dare you to try and strike me!”

 

The piñata snorted indignantly and kicked her legs about.

 

“Sweet Moses, McGucket.”

 

“At first I was just gonna make it an animatronic, but then I thought—why not give her a personality? Makes it more fun.”

 

Rick’s face lit up as Stan slapped a hand to his.

 

“You two were made for each other, Pointdexter,” he grumbled.

 

“I assure you we used a simple software program. The piñata is not actually sentient.”

 

Rick shrugged.

 

“Still works for me.”

 

He let Summer blindfold him and eagerly took the piñata stick. After being spun a few times he swung wildly, grinning when Jerry screamed.

 

“Watch it! You nearly hit me, Rick!”

 

“Whoops,” Rick said, aiming in the direction of Jerry’s voice.

 

The unicorn piñata snorted.

 

“Pathetic, Sanchez!”

 

Behind the blindfold his eyes narrowed.

 

“You programmed th-that dialogue, didn’t you, Ford?”

 

There was a noncommittal hum in return. Rick quickly flipped off the general area Ford may have been in and went after the piñata again. This time his stick connected with something solid, giving off a very satisfying _whap_. The unicorn whinnied.

 

Lifting a corner of his blindfold, Rick grinned at the crack he’d caused. It ran down one side of the piñata. Not enough to break it but it was a good start. He took the blindfold off fully and handed both it and the stick over to Summer.

 

“Make grandpa proud.”

 

“Hell yeah I will, grandpa Rick.”

 

As the piñata started to insult Summer Rick went over to Stan. Ford excused himself, going over to where Fiddleford and Beth were talking. For a moment they stood in silence. It was Stan who broke it, voice tentative and unsure.

 

“So, were you surprised?”

 

“That you’re such a goddamn sap? Nope.” Rick grinned, elbowing Stan playfully. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

 

“Heh. I’m glad you’re enjoying this. I was kinda worried you’d just portal out.”

 

“What, and ha-have everyone bitch at me later? Besides, I’d miss out on nine different cakes and all my presents. And whatever’s inside the piñata.”

 

Stan shivered and said, “I hope it’s not realistic.”

 

“Isn’t unicorn blood sparkly and shit? It would make Mabel’s day.”

 

“Huh, guess you have a point.”

 

“Ye-up. So, after this party wanna go hit space vegas? Then we can get wasted and fuck with the Council of Ricks.”

 

“Sounds like a plan, babe. As long as we make a stop in that dimension where you’re a cyclops and I’m a gargoyle. Gargoyle me lost a bet.”

 

Rick smiled and clapped his hands together.

 

“Ah-alright. First I’m going to go eat my face.”

 

Stan slunk an arm around Rick’s waste and together they went over to the snack table, the room filled with the curses of an angry piñata and everyone else’s cheers.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed me sneaking in the use of "grandpa Stan" from Summer and "Dad" from Soos. And I don't even know where I came up with the piñata from.


End file.
